I wish I could scream the news from the rooftops. I’m pregnant. 

Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. 

Nothing’s ever made me so happy. I understand why expecting mothers share everything on social media. It’s exciting. 

But I can’t tell a soul. Especially Alex. 

He steals glances from his guard duty to study me. My chipper attitude raises a lot of questions. “You seem different.”

Don’t look at him. If you do, he’ll know. “Really?”

“Yeah. You have a glow.”

God, he used the word. “My stomach issues cleared up.”

They haven’t. I’m just better at hiding nausea.

“Good.” Alex wanders into the cafeteria.

My only regret is this place. I’ll miss working here. The kitchen isn’t much, but it’s mine. I asked for a tent, a couple of tables, and a wood-burning oven. Alex found a restaurant that closed, fixed the appliances, and reorganized the space. 

He also hired a local artist to paint a mural. She sketched a design of a woman swaddling her infant behind a cornucopia spilling with fruit. Now it’s splashed over the wall in vibrant colors. People smile when they see it. 

I take a break to join Alex, who admires the art with his arms crossed.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” I’m impressed with artist’s technique. “Everything’s coming together nicely.”

“This isn’t a kitchen anymore, you know. They open the doors every day.”

“How come?”

“Locals like it here. It’s a pillar of the community, I guess.” He tears his attention from the painting to gaze at me. “All thanks to you. You should be very proud.”

I flush with pleasure. “So should you.”

He beams at me. “I was happy to do it.”

Thinking about leaving everything I’ve built nags at my conscience, but I have to believe it’ll continue without me. With the locals’ involvement, it could become an event center. But that won’t make moving to the United States any easier. 

“I didn’t understand why you wanted this, but now I do.” Admiration glows from his voice. 

“This has been a long time coming.” I survey the quiet dining area, still closed for a few more hours. “I’ve waited forever to do something important. You know?”

He nods.

As the clock strikes four, I disappear into the kitchen to begin tonight’s meal. Savory fumes saturate the air. Onions and garlic sizzle as I chop zucchini. I gather diced carrots and dump them into the stew. I mix the contents. My stomach lurches at the pungent smell.

Shit. Looking at vegetables makes me want to barf. 

I swallow hard, shoving thoughts of nausea aside as I grab a yam. The peeler rakes a line of flesh. I regurgitate at the color. 

Orange. Disgusting. 

A burning tide rises in my throat. The peeler clatters on stainless steel.

“I need a break.” 

Volunteers in hairnets gape at me as I run toward the exit. The doors fly open as vomit bursts from my mouth. 

God, this is embarrassing. 

I retch, doubled over as footsteps grow louder. 

Pull it together.

I wipe my lips and straighten, but pain yanks me down. I gag even though there’s nothing left.

A gentle touch soothes my back. “You okay?”

“Ugh.” I accept his napkin. “This is so gross. I’m sorry.”

“You’re still sick, aren’t you?”

Fuck. “No. I mean, I thought I wasn’t.”

“Hmm.” Suspicion narrows Alex’s eyebrows as he grabs my arm, leading me into the cold kitchen. He fills a cup and beckons me into an office. I sink into a chair, weary to my bones.

“Drink.”

My stomach turns as I accept the water. I take small sips. “Showing up to work was stupid. I’m probably contagious.”

I wonder if he’ll buy that.

Alex watches me, his gaze piercing. “Why did you lie?”

My cheeks blaze. “I didn’t.”

I might as well be sporting a LIAR sign.

“You said you were better. You’re not.” Alex leans against the desk, arms crossed. “This has happened more than once.”

My hands buckle the plastic. “Always looking after me.”

“It’s my job, but I can’t pretend it’s not personal.” He drums his knees. “Could I ask you something private?”

No more. The tide of nausea returns with a vengeance. “What is it?”

“Are you pregnant?”

The blood drains from my face. He guessed. 

How’s that possible? “No.”

He raises an eyebrow, doubtful. “You’re sure?”

“I want kids, but now’s not the time.” I freeze, deciding to blame my husband. “August wants to wait.”

“That’s the excuse he gave you? Ridiculous.”

“You don’t approve?”

He radiates with a fierce energy. “It’s wrong to deny your wife children.”

I burn from the heat in his voice. If he weren’t eager to replace his brother, I wouldn’t be nervous. “We’re in love.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I believe you.” For now, he seems to add with his eyes.

Distance from me was supposed to dampen the torch he’s carrying. If anything his flame has grown hotter. 

I swallow hard, rising to my feet. “I’m better.”

“We should—mierda!”

Alex jumps away as I retch. I double over and spit mouthfuls of saliva, moaning. 

“You’re pregnant.” Bitterness chases his shock. “It’s fucking obvious.”

I straighten, clutching my stomach. “No.”

“Don’t lie.” He glowers. “You need a doctor. My father will want to know.”

No.

I seize his collar, swaying from nausea but determined to set him straight. “Leave your dad out of this.”

“Why?”

A thrill runs through my body. “He won’t let me go.”

Stunned disbelief sags his face. “You can’t.”

“I don’t belong here, Alex! And the baby—there’s no way in hell I’m raising a kid here. I’m not trying to insult your country, but I can’t live like this.”

He rips my hand from his throat, looking devastated. “Why?”

The despair in that question tears my heart. “I thought you’d understand.”

“Understand? You made me think you wanted to be part of this culture.”

“I did—I mean—I do!” He looks offended. “What do you expect? Your father isn’t a picnic.”

“You’re safe here.”

“Oh come on. That’s bullshit.”

He shakes his head. “I would never let anything happen to you.”

“You and August both couldn’t stop him. It’s not just that. I don’t have the freedom to choose.” I wilt at his steadfastness. “Neither do you.”

It occurs to me that Alex might’ve been more isolated than his brother. Alex hasn’t been to the United States. He’s swallowed his father’s rhetoric for years. His whole life was dictated by his father’s schedule.

Alex flinches. “That doesn’t make me blind to the truth.”

“Fact: Your people are oppressed. Another one: General Espada is a warmongering savage.”

“Your country is no better than mine,” Alex snaps. “It might not have the same problems, but you were trapped living in that warehouse. Weren’t you?”

“My child deserves a choice. If I stay, I know she won’t have that.”

Giving up on returning to work, I walk away.

“Lily, don’t leave.”

My throat thickens. “I have to.”

Pain crystallizes in Alex’s gaze. “You’re going to abandon everything you’ve built?” 

“There are others to continue where I left off. Patricia is plenty capable.” I bite my lip at his hesitation. “You can’t tell your dad about the pregnancy.”

He rakes his hair, miserable. “Jesus.”

“Please, Alex.”

“You’re asking me for a huge favor,” he growls. “Lying to him means risking my life.”

“I’m begging you.”

“Do you realize what he’ll do if you escape?” Darkness shadows his face. “Do you even give a shit?”

“Of course I care!”

He ignores me, ripping open the door. 

“Alex!” I watch him storm from the kitchen.

Fuck.